


Wake Up

by Bookkbaby



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Hospitals, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-22
Updated: 2015-03-22
Packaged: 2018-03-19 03:31:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3594729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bookkbaby/pseuds/Bookkbaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It had been a rookie mistake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wake Up

**Author's Note:**

> Commission fic for ididitforthepie! Thank you so much for donating to my Dreams To Acts campaign!
> 
> For details on how to commission me (and help out a really great cause!) please go here: http://bookkbaby.tumblr.com/post/111974048905/fic-commissions

 

Dean breathed. He heard the steady beep of the heartrate monitor, the click and hiss of the breathing mask.

His fault. His  _fucking_  fault.

Cas shouldn't have even been there. He was a  _local_  guy, not a fed, why had Dean even-

He tightened his grip a little more on Cas's unbroken hand. He couldn't seem to let go, as though his grip was some kind of magic talisman that would bring Cas back safely. Like maybe if Dean just held on, Cas wouldn't slip away from them - from  _him_  - completely.

* * *

 

At least the nurses hadn't kicked him out. Dean knew it was well past visiting hours, but someone (probably Sam) had convinced the hospital staff to let Dean stay. Good. Dean wasn't sure Bobby Singer himself could have pried Dean away from Cas's bedside, not even if Bobby threatened Dean's job.

(Not that Bobby would actually follow through. Dean loved what he did and he was  _good_  at it. Bobby wouldn't want to lose one of his best.)

"I'm sorry, Cas," Dean said, voice hoarse and just above a whisper. He should have told Cas to stay behind, should have  _made_  him, locked him in his office if that's what it took.

Ghouls were nasty fuckers. Dean and Sam were trained to take them down, armed with all the weapons they needed to detect and kill the creatures, and had a lot more experience under their belts. Cas may have been a damn fine detective, but he was a local guy, and the only ghoul training he'd likely had was a short seminar years ago to go over the basics; 'identify, then tell the Feds so they can take care of it'.

There's a small, niggling voice in the back of his head, reminding him that he did in fact tell Cas to stay behind. He did threaten to lock Cas in his office, but Cas had been determined and stubborn and Dean had backed down. The thought of  _'well I tried to protect him'_  was no consolation to the fact that he  _failed_.

"You gotta wake up, buddy," Dean said. "Please, you-"

He breathed in deeply, then let the uneven breath out. His eyes stung and he rubbed at them with his free hand, thinking uncharitable thoughts about the dry air circulating the hospital.

Cas had fought well. He was a master with a blade and had easily held his own against the nest of ghouls. Dean remembered admiring his prowess, his grace, his  _power_ , and then-

Fuck, it had been a  _rookie mistake_.

Dean's attention had slipped for a precious second, just long enough for a ghoul the size of Andre the Giant to get the drop on him. The ghoul had knocked him down and had been about to go for a kill strike when Cas had leapt in front of Dean.

The ghoul had thrown Cas into the wall. Dean could still hear the dull 'thunk' as Cas's head impacted the stone, could remember the bright splash of red the sound had left behind.

Everything had gone kind of hazy after. Dean's next clear memory is of dispatching the last ghoul and then running to Castiel's side and falling to his knees. He remembers the weak beat of Cas's pulse beneath his fingers, the overwhelming relief followed by deep-seated fear that even if Cas wasn't dead  _yet_ , Death was lurking close by.

Sam had called for a medic and Cas had been loaded into the waiting ambulance. They'd been prepared, and those precious minutes saved might be all the difference in the world. Dean had ridden with Cas in the back of the ambulance as no one had dared tell him otherwise.

Once they arrived at the hospital, Cas had been taken from Dean to begin treatment. Minutes had passed like hours, until finally an exhausted doctor had come out to tell Dean that his husband was in a coma and had been placed in ICU for the night.

Dean hadn't bothered correcting her. Cas wasn't his 'husband', not even close.

Not that Dean would have minded.

It was ridiculous, he'd only known the guy a week. They hadn't even really gone on a date, even if there had been one night Dean and Cas had gone to the

local greasy spoon for some grub while Sam finished up some paperwork. It didn't matter that that one night had been a bright spot in this clusterfuck of a case, or that Cas's obliviousness to the waitress's flirting had made Dean laugh harder than he had in years.

There was just something about Cas. There was this undercurrent between them, an intensity Dean had felt from Day 1. A more romantic person than Dean Winchester might have said they were lovers in a past life and their souls remembered even if they did not.

Dean Winchester was not that kind of person, but with Cas, he almost wanted to be.

"I promise, buddy," Dean said. "When you wake up, I'm going to take you out for coffee. We'll walk through that tiny-ass park in the middle of town and we'll talk about whatever you want and I'll hold your hand. Then I'll take you home and... and kiss you goodnight. Or not goodnight, I'll just kiss you and then we'll- if you want, I mean."

Dean rubbed his free hand over his face. What the hell was he doing, making promises to a coma patient? Hell, he wasn't even sure if Cas wanted anything other than friendship from him. Maybe this was all one-sided. Maybe Cas would accept the offer of coffee because he simply didn't realize that by 'coffee', Dean meant 'a date', and he'd flinch when Dean tried to hold his hand.

Dare Dean hope that Cas's fingers would interlock with his, or that Cas would lean in to meet him halfway as Dean bent to kiss him? Hope was a thorny, painful thing that usually ended in misery. Dean tried to avoid hoping, but he couldn't seem to do it this time. There was something in the way Cas looked at him, something about the intense staring and these  _moments_  that kept happening between them.

Were it not for these moments being constantly interrupted, Dean wonders if they would have already kissed.

"Just wake up," he murmured. "We can figure the rest out, you just need to  _wake up_."

There was silence for several moments, broken only by the whirr of the machines, the beep of the heart monitor, and Dean's heartbeat. He sighed.

Something shifted.

Dean looked up, all the air escaping from his lungs. Cas's face was pinched into an expression of concentration, no longer smooth and slack in deep unconsciousness.

Dean didn't dare move. He watched as Cas's eyes flickered beneath their heavy lids, felt as Cas's hand flexed weakly in his grip, stared wordlessly as Cas began to wake up.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
 _It was dark.  
_

_But warm. So very warm, and comfortable. Peaceful.  
_

_He could stay here forever. He had the idea that waking meant pain, and pain was bad. To be avoided.  
_

_But...  
_

_There was a voice.  
_

"-I'll hold your hand." _  
_

_Hand? Oh yes, hands, right, he had hands._

"Then I'll take you home and... and kiss you goodnight." _  
_

_Lips. Lips touching lips, warm and soft and sweet like green eyes and freckles-_ _  
_

_Who? Someone important, someone-_

"Or not goodnight, I'll just kiss you and then we'll- if you want, I mean." _  
_

_He knew. He knew what 'and then we'll' implied, and with that voice, maybe-_ _  
_

_Oh. This was want._

"Just wake up."

_But waking meant pain. Pain in his head and chest and heart._

_But waking meant green eyes and freckles and capable hands, too._ _  
_

"We can figure the rest out, you just need to  _wake up_." _  
_

_Yes, they could, couldn't they? They could figure the rest out, both of them together. 'Together' was important._ _  
_

_With who?_ _  
_

_Green eyes and freckles and capable hands and that smile and that voice._ _  
_

_That person, who was waiting for him to wake up._ _  
_

_I just need to wake up._

Castiel opened his eyes slowly, painfully. The room swam into view; standard hospital room, all sterilized white and tile. Cas didn't care. The room wasn't important.

He let his head loll to the side. There was something on his hand, something holding it-

Green eyes. And freckles. And capable hands.

That smile.

_"Cas!"_

That  _voice_.

Cas managed a small smile.

"Hello, Dean."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Castiel was released from the hospital several days later with strict instructions to take it easy for two weeks. After that, he'd be on light duty at the police station for a month.

That didn't stop him from taking Dean up on the offer of coffee, or from taking a short walk in the local park while holding Dean's hand.

It didn't stop him from kissing Dean on the front porch of his house, or from inviting Dean inside, though only to sleep.

Dean didn't mind. He could do slow.

They had all the time in the world.


End file.
